


La belle au bois dormant

by CanadianGarrison



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Consensual Somnophilia, F/M, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Oral Sex, Sleep Sex, Vaginal Sex, happily married perverts, mysterious sex potion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 06:12:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8737849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanadianGarrison/pseuds/CanadianGarrison
Summary: I’m just gonna share the summary I sent a friend of mine, right after splooshing out the first draft of this story in three non-consecutive hours on a Friday.Aramis takes a sex potion but then he can't relax and it's been hours so he goes to Constance but she's not home and d'Artagnan gives Aramis too much sleeping potion so now he's passed out and still hard. What on earth will Constance and d'Artagnan doooooooooo?It's snow_glory's fault, she asked for porn.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my #smuttyladies and [BazinMousqueton](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BazinMousqueton/pseuds/BazinMousqueton) for audiencing and editing, you've inspired me to new heights and I really appreciate it. All mistakes are my own and sadly I do not own the characters.

It was late when Constance got home; she had been at Fleur’s house, caring for her heavily-pregnant friend. Fleur’s new husband, Martin, walked Constance through the snow to her house, making sure she got there safely, then hurried home as she unlocked the back door and went inside.

The house was dark but warm, fires banked and only a few candles lit. Charles was sitting at the kitchen table, working on the lessons Athos had left him. Military tactics and strategy, theories of leadership, that sort of thing; Constance had glanced through but mostly left him to it. She had enough to do just running the garrison.

“How is she?” Charles asked, coming over to the door to help Constance unwind from her shawl and mittens and coat before kissing her hello.

“Well enough,” Constance answered. “She'll have the baby any day now, but apparently not tonight. How're you?”

“Fine; fine. I, uh… had a bit of a weird evening, after you left.”

“Oh?” Nothing looked out of place, not down here at least. She’d been gone for several hours, but Charles had just planned to eat the supper she left him and work on his lessons, so what could have happened? “Are you all right?”

“Oh yeah, I'm good. Aramis is here, he's upstairs. Sleeping." 

Heat bloomed in Constance's body when Charles said the words ‘Aramis’ and ‘upstairs’, then faded when he got to ‘sleeping’.

“That's a nice surprise for you!” After so many years apart, Constance was always pleased when her men got to spend time together. She winked. “Why’s he sleeping, then, d’you wear him out?”

“In a way, yes, but… wait, let me help you get those boots off, and come sit down. Have you even eaten anything?”

“No,” Constance admitted, “and I'm starving.” She lifted her skirts as Charles knelt, pulling off first one boot and then the other, standing them up by the hearth to dry out. He looked good down there… After spending a long evening helping Fleur, Constance would enjoy taking some time to see to her own needs, but Charles had something to say, so she would have to wait a while longer. 

Constance sat across from Charles’s place at the table, eagerly setting in to the bowl of stew and crusty bread and butter that he laid out for her. As he put on a kettle for tea, Charles continued explaining.

“Aramis showed up not too long after you left, looking excited. You know how he gets – eyes bright, cheeks flushed, that sort of thing.”

Constance nodded; she had seen Aramis right before a fight, or a fuck, and either way he had the same expression on his face. “So he was randy, and came here? That's lovely, Charles.”

“Right, and I'm still so glad you think so, but here's the thing. He had already been fucking for hours, he said, and spent four times, but he was still rock hard, and was starting to worry. He was hoping you might have some herbs or something that would help.” The water was boiled, and Charles got back up to make tea before Constance could. What a good husband; she'd keep him a while longer.

“Four times? In one night? What's gotten into him? Aramis isn’t eighteen anymore!”

“That's exactly what I said,” Charles laughed. “So, turns out he took a potion, got it down on rue Chambly, he was expecting a long night with You Know Who and wanted to be sure not to disappoint. I think he's getting sensitive about his age, maybe, and … well, anyways. Potion. He took a Mysterious Sex Potion.”

Charles emphasized it with waggling eyebrows and wavy fingers, and Constance couldn't help grinning at him. She sipped her tea, pushing the empty dishes towards Charles so he would take them over to the sink, and leaned back in her chair.

“So, what'd you do?”

“Well he wasn't really in the mood for more sex, though he said if he was still hard when you got home that he'd be up for it. I gave him some of your sleeping tonic to see if that would help.”

“My _sleeping_ tonic?” Constance repeated. She looked at Charles for a moment, then shook her head. Constance knew that sheepish look.

“You had to carry him upstairs, didn't you?”

“Yes” d’Artagnan groaned, one hand rubbing at his back. “I may be strong, but I'm no Porthos.”

“All right,” Constance sighed, shoving her chair back and standing up. “Let's go see how he's doing.”

She headed upstairs with her cup of tea, leaving Charles to tidy the dishes and put away his books before joining her.

Aramis was in their bed, flat on his back, under the covers and apparently out cold. His chest rose and fell, steady slow breaths reassuring Constance that he was just asleep and not… not anything, just asleep. His hair was sticking out in every direction, like he’d run his hands through it repeatedly, and his face was relaxed and peaceful. Less peaceful, however, was the erection that tented the sheets at his groin.

“He's been like that since I got him to bed,” Charles whispered. He came up behind Constance, putting his arms around her waist and kissing her cheek. “I've checked a few times just to make sure he's still breathing, and he hasn't even moved.”

“How much did you give him?” She whispered back.

“A cup, but when it didn't work, he had another. And … well he ended up drinking five cups of it.”

“Five?!” Constance forgot she was supposed to be whispering, but Aramis didn’t stir. “You let him drink _five cups_? He won’t wake up for hours, it’s no wonder you had to carry him in here.”

She looked over Aramis once more, lips curled in a small smile. He looked good in her bed.

“Well, Charles,” Constance turned to face her husband, “in a situation like this, there's only one thing to do.” The arousal that had been just a spark earlier was fully aflame now, and when she met his eyes Constance could tell that Charles was feeling it too.

“Oh yes? And what is that, hm?” He raised an eyebrow, just like Athos would.

“Take advantage.”

Constance tilted her face up and kissed Charles, slipping her tongue in between his lips and swiping it across his tongue before pulling back to start undressing.

Charles, bless him, was on board with the plan immediately, taking off his own clothes before helping Constance step out of her shift and over-dress, old clothes she'd chosen in case Fleur did have the baby today, kissing her deeply after he removed each article of clothing.

Soon they were both naked and breathing hard, still standing by the bed, side by side and holding hands. Aramis hadn't moved.

“Let's see what we're working with,” Constance said, and pulled the blankets back. “Wait, you undressed him, too?”

Charles blushed. “I wanted him to be comfortable?” Such a delightful deviant. She would definitely be keeping him.

“Did you do anything else before I got home?”

“No, I wanted to wait for you,” Charles tucked a lock of hair behind Constance's ear. “But… I thought about it. About sucking his cock.”

“Show me,” Constance said, and she lay down on Aramis's left side as Charles knelt on his right. Charles looked up Aramis's body to his face, ran a hand over his leg and loosely cupped his cock. He stroked once, watching Aramis for a response, but there was none. With a shrug, Charles leaned forward and took the head of Aramis's cock in his mouth. He sucked a little, then pulled off and looked at Constance.

“He tastes clean, that's nice. Guess he washed before coming here.” Constance hadn't even thought of that, but maybe Aramis had tried to calm himself from the potion’s effects with a cool bath.

Charles ducked back down as she considered, taking Aramis back into his mouth, humming a little with pleasure. It was interesting, how he took it differently for his own pleasure than he would if Aramis were awake to enjoy himself – he was sliding up and down, yes, but not as deeply as he usually did. Instead of playing with Aramis's balls, Charles had one hand holding his cock in place and the other rubbing light circles on Aramis's chest.

“Go a bit faster for me?” Constance was so turned on already, her voice was low, and she let one hand drift to her breasts as she watched, back and forth between her nipples, tugging and tweaking.

Her wonderful Charles did as she asked, he always did, and soon Constance's own mouth was watering with how good they looked, Aramis's cock thick and hard, Charles with drool running down his chin, eyes dark with desire. His hair kept falling in his face and he kept brushing it back, that had to be distracting for him. A good wife would never leave her husband to suffer so terribly if she could help it, right? Of course not. So Constance reached across Aramis's body and gathered Charles’s hair in one hand, as much as she could hold, making sure the front bits and much of the rest was pulled back and out of the way.

Charles pulled off to smile and blow a kiss at her, then slowly leaned forward, not dislodging her hand. Aramis's cock disappeared into his mouth, inch by inch, until Charles’s nose was brushing Aramis's curly hairs and he was as deep as could be.

When Charles tried to back off, though, Constance couldn't help herself – she used her grip to hold his head in place, pressing down while he pushed back until Charles went limp, stopped struggling. She loved that, the power and the knowledge that her husband was letting her direct how he sucked their lover’s dick.

Only when Charles started to choke and fight for air did Constance pull him off Aramis, letting him gasp twice and then pushing him down again. This time she tugged his head up and down, not far enough to choke him again, watching the shine of spit on Aramis's cock, Charles’s lips. He was good at this, her deviant husband was, sucked cock as well as she could. Not better; she would never admit to better.

Eventually the temptation was too strong, and Constance pulled Charles all the way off Aramis, leaning in to lick and then suck his cock herself, slurping up Charles’s spit and Aramis's slick. He was still just as hard, and apparently just as fast asleep; Charles had moved up the bed to check on him, and he gave her a reassuring nod in response to her raised eyebrow.

“He's breathing normally, and his eyes flutter more when I talk to him now than they did earlier. He's still out, but I think it's lifting, a little.”

“No time to waste, then,” Constance said. “I feel like I haven't been fucked in a year.”

“It's been two days,” Charles reminded her, “and you had both me and _General_ du Vallon, were we not enough for you?”

“It was good to see Porthos,” Constance answered. She kneeled up and threw a leg over Aramis, straddling him easily and resting her hands on his chest, though her weight was mostly on her own legs. “I'm so glad Elodie picked him, she's lovely. And so understanding. Now…” Constance trailed off as she reached under herself with one hand to grasp Aramis, hold his cock in just the right angle, keep him still and steady as she sank down onto him.

The sensation of Aramis filling her, bit by bit, at the pace she set, was at once familiar and not. This wasn't the first time she'd fucked Aramis, not by far, nor the first time with her husband in bed with them. She was used to being on top now, also, though it had taken some time to get comfortable with the idea, and she'd come to enjoy the control and the vulnerability of the position. All that aside, there was something … something _more,_ something intense, in knowing that not only was Aramis not in control, but he wasn't even _awake_ , he didn't know any of this was happening!

Constance moaned when she bottomed out, Aramis all the way inside her. She leaned forward, brushed a hand over Aramis's cheek, and then kissed him. He didn't move. He didn't move at all, and that thrilled a moan out of Constance, her hips beginning to rock of their own volition as she kissed him again.

“This is amazing,” Charles sighed. “You look so good, and he has no idea, at all.”

“I know,” Constance replied. Then she kissed Aramis again, pushing her tongue between his slack lips and tasting sleep, tasting her sleep tonic, tasting Aramis. She rode him harder, feeling him hot and thick and so very good inside her. Constance licked a winding path from Aramis’s ear down his neck to his shoulder, pausing there to suck and mouth at his skin, tasting his sweat and leather and perhaps a hint of the woman he’d been with earlier.

Her climax took her by surprise, and Constance gasped and shook as she clenched around him over and over. Then it passed; it was a quick one, the first time usually was. Breathing slowly, deeply, Constance looked up into Aramis’s face. He was still asleep, head tilted to one side, mouth open a little bit, eyes gently shut. Gorgeous.

From her side, Constance heard telltale sounds of a hand moving on flesh.

“Don’t you think you’re forgetting something?” she asked archly as she turned to face Charles. He was indeed tossing himself off to the sight of his wife riding another man. A sleeping man.

“What’s that?” Charles looked up at Constance, head propped on his not-naughty hand.

“Aramis has hands, too.”

“I love you so fucking much, Constance.”

“I know.”

Charles wriggled a bit higher up on the bed, and wrapped Aramis’s right hand around his cock. He held Aramis’s hand in place, and when Constance nodded at him, he started to stroke himself, slow and tight, hard, just the way she loved to do it when she was feeling extra… extra.

Constance licked her teeth and moved her hips again, picking up where she left off with her own use of their sleeping beauty. Aramis was just as hard as ever, and Constance was wet enough that she wondered if he’d come inside her and she hadn’t realized. But that seemed unlikely. He felt so good, full and hard and long, just the right length, and Constance went a bit faster, started rising up a bit higher as she rode Aramis, looking back and forth between Aramis’s relaxed face, Charles’s entirely more intense one, and Aramis’s hand on Charles’s cock. Aramis was always so busy, when she saw him, always doing something with his hands, making something or fixing something or cleaning something. To see those same hands so still and helpless felt intense and intimate to Constance, felt special in a new way.

“We’re so lucky,” Constance told Charles, pausing to moan and toss her head a bit. “Lucky to have Aramis, have him back with us.”  
  
“Of course,” Charles answered. He was breathing just as hard as she was, his hips thrusting back and forth into the circle of Aramis’s fingers.

Constance was close to coming again, little thrills running through her cunt and her belly; she felt it in her toes, her fingertips. She rode Aramis faster still, bouncing higher and harder on his cock and slamming down each time with enough force to shake him, shake the entire bed.

“Do it,” Charles said, “Come for us, show me,” and she would, she _would_ , but it wasn’t quite yet, she wasn’t quite there yet. And then Aramis stirred, his eyelashes fluttered and he was looking at her, his eyes only half-open. Constance paused, entirely still, and Aramis _smiled_ , he smiled at her and shut his eyes again, went back to sleep. His head lolled back against the bed, and Constance caught fire, she shouted and grinded and shuddered her way through a wrenching orgasm, more instinct than awareness moving her body to wring every bit of pleasure out of it that she could.

“...Wow,” Charles said. “That looked amazing.”

Constance just breathed, still clenching and unclenching randomly around Aramis, her thighs shuddering a bit. She’d have to move soon.

“So,” Constance said. “D’you think he can sleep through having you in his ass?” Charles moaned, his own hips which had fallen still as he watched Constance come resuming their motions, thrusting back and forth into Aramis’s hand.

“I don’t know,” Charles answered, “I hope so.”

“Me too,” Constance confided. “We can try it next. Are you going to spend all over his hand, Charles?”  
  
“Soon!”

“Good, that’s so good.” She was searching for something else to say, something dirty and new, but then Charles was coming, fucking Aramis’s fist and shooting thick strands of come all over their joined hands, the bed, Constance’s thigh.

When he was finished, Charles fell back against the bed, flat on his back beside Aramis, and Constance hummed in satisfaction.

“A bit of a rest, a drink of wine, and then I think round two. Right?”

Twin snores from Charles and Aramis were her only answer.


End file.
